


Pennies and Handjobs

by weeklypants



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Arse Worship, Blow Jobs, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fingering, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Kisses, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Red Pants, Red Pants Monday, Sequel, Sneakiness, Teenlock, pennies and ladders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-28
Updated: 2013-09-24
Packaged: 2017-12-13 05:40:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/820637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weeklypants/pseuds/weeklypants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The smutty bits from my Pennies and Ladders fic. To be read after chapter 5. Or by itself. You know who you are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> John and Sherlock are 13 soo... if mutual kidlock handjobs squick you out, you may want to read the (mostly) family-friendly rest of the story. It can be found here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/802716/chapters/1513205
> 
> Also, I'm not sure if I should make more of these "smut chapters". thoughts?

When John stopped laughing, tears still blurring his vision, he noticed that Sherlock had been staring at him. He wiped his eyes and stared back. Sherlock’s gaze was intense, watching him and John could feel the sudden charge in the room, his skin prickling pleasantly.   
  
“Sherlock.. ah... should we go upstairs? I mean... do you need to..?”  


“Oh yes.”   


John hurried his partner up the stairs and as soon as he closed the door, Sherlock was on him, biting at his neck and tugging at his jumper.   
  
“Sherl--ah--lok! Hold on!” John huffed and pulled his jumper up over his head while Sherlock pouted at him. Then he reached for Sherlock’s shirt and made quick work of the buttons, which was easier said than done with a horny Sherlock groping one’s chest.   
  
“John, can I touch you?” Sherlock’s gaze was dead serious, which made John laugh.   
  
“Yeah.” He smiled at Sherlock, who proceeded to unzip his trousers.  
  
“Huh. I almost forgot it was Monday” he said, tugging at John’s red pants playfully, before leaning in and kissing the bulge through the red fabric. John bit his lip and pressed himself harder against his door.   
  
“Sherlock!”  
  
Sherlock blushed as he proceeded to pull John’s prick out from its tight red prison and stared at it nervously.   
  
Neither of them said anything, John watched Sherlock watching him and waited. Finally, the brunette spoke up.  
  
“How do I touch it?”  
  
John nearly fell over. Looking at Sherlock now, well, he never thought he’d seen anything so cute in his life. He groaned and pulled Sherlock into a tight hug, which turned into a kiss, which turned into a total snogfest. They were both gasping by the time they pulled apart, and John looked down at their matching erections (his out and proud, Sherlock’s still trapped in his trousers) and had an idea.   
  
“C’mere, ‘Lock.” He whispered, pulling his best friend over to sit on the bed. He turned and faced Sherlock, then opened up _his_ trousers and pulled away _his_ pants. Sherlock was lovely. His prick was long and lean and white. Like the rest of him, but for the pink tip, just slightly wet with precum. John took a deep breath and ran his finger through the wetness and down the length of it. Then, tentatively, he wrapped his hand around the shaft and gave an experimental stroke, pulling down the foreskin. Sherlock sucked in a breath.  
  
“We can touch each other like this. I’ll show you what I like and you can show me what you like.”  
  
“Oh! That’s...that’s...” he didn’t get to finish the thought, though, because as soon as he wrapped his fist around John’s penis, he was rewarded with a _brilliant_ squeeze to his own.   
  
Then John started to pump his fist up and down. Slowly at first, with a soft but firm pressure. Sherlock focused on John’s prick and tried his best to translate what he was feeling to instructions for his hand. It was a bit harder than he thought to copy the movements exactly, but John was sighing happily, so he was confident it was good enough. As the minutes passed, Sherlock became more confident, and decided to switch off. He sped up his pace and applied firmer pressure, sliding his thumb over the slit on every third stroke. John moaned, then obeyed, giving Sherlock as good as he got.   
  
Suddenly, their foreheads were pressed together, eyes closed, and fists pumping furiously.  
  
“John.. I’m close...”  
“Yeah.. s’okay. Me too...”  


John picked up the pace, Sherlock’s wet cock now making obscene squelching noises that somehow succeeded in turning John on even _more._  
  
“Oh, god... Sherlock...”  
  
Sherlock pulled John in close with his free hand and smashed their mouths together, groaning. John poked his tongue between Sherlock’s lips and slid it along his tongue. Sherlock panted into John’s mouth and sucked that tongue further inside, moaning.  
  
John felt something warm and wet drop onto his hand and as soon as he realized what it was, he was cumming, too. It was white hot and made him dizzy, and Sherlock stroked him through it, nibbling at his lips as his mouth opened in a silent shout. Then it was over, and he and Sherlock were surrounded in each others‘ warmth, content.   
  
“John?”  
  
“yeah?”  
  
“We really ought to do that again sometime.”  


“Yes, we really should.”  
  
“When?”  
  
“Tomorrow?”  
  
“Or in a few hours?”  
  
John smiled at Sherlock’s suggestion. “You’re brilliant,” he said.  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John are in the shower and it's Sherlock's turn to get shampoo'd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another smut chapter! To be read after chapter 6 of "Pennies and Ladders"... I'm kinda thinking about the age thing and... let's say they're 15. People have been requesting things escalate and if that's gonna happen, they NEED to be older. So 15? 15's good. so read afterch 6 of PAL or on it's own-- whatever floats your Johnlock ship ;P
> 
> Here's a link to chapter 6~  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/802716/chapters/1640802

He leaned down and let John rub the shampoo into his dark curls for a minute before getting bored and suddenly wrapping his arms around the shorter boy. He nuzzled into John’s warm, damp neck and placed a gentle bite on his shoulder. John straightened up and his arms twitched uselessly, unable to decide where to rest.  
Then Sherlock pulled their bodies flush together and kissed John hard as the water from the shower soaked his soapy hair and a stream of wet foam ran down their faces and backs. It was then that John noticed how hard Sherlock had become and he glanced down: Sure enough, there was a small but persistent tent forming in his ridiculous shorts, and for a moment John regretted taking care of himself before Sherlock had arrived-- but no. This was a perfect opportunity to...  
  
“Sherlock?”  
  
“Hmmn?”  
  
“Could I... try something new?”  
  
Sherlock pulled back and held John at arms’ length, examining him. Finding nothing suspicious or dangerous, he nodded once with earnest eyes and John’s heart beat a little faster.  
  
John licked his lips and kneeled in front of the taller boy, the slick porcelain only slightly uncomfortable on his knees. He held his gaze and waited for the flash of realization in Sherlock's eyes.  


“John...?”  
Ah. There it was.  


John grinned and pulled Sherlock’s brightly-colored swimwear out of the way so he could grip his member.  
  
“You don’t have to--”  
  
He didn’t get to finish the thought because John’s lips had already wrapped around the head of Sherlock’s cock and he was sucking greedily as he fisted the shaft.  
  
Sherlock shook until the initial waves of pleasure subsided, leaving him with a needy, growing warmth in the pit of his stomach. John popped off then and gave Sherlock a mischievous smile  
  
“ Sorry, perhaps I didn’t phrase that right: I want to do this. Oh, but I’ve had no prior experience, so you’ll have to tell me what feels good as we go. “  
  
“ That won’t be a problem.”  
  
“Good then.”  
And that hot, _wet_ mouth was back, sucking the head and then licking at that little ridge while John slowly-- _agonizingly slowly_ \-- and carefully swallowed down millimeters at a time. Sherlock could tell how cautious John was: both of his teeth causing Sherlock discomfort and of taking in too much and gagging.   
  
“Damn, it’s good, John...” he groaned, “Where did you learn to do this?”  
  
John looked up, threatening to pull off and answer the question  
  
“No, never mind... tell me later.”  
  
And he could feel John chuckle around his cock ( _Chuckle around his cock? When did that become so sexy?)_

 

When John’s tongue swiped against the vein on the underside of Sherlock’s length, his voice cracked in a guttural moan that echoed _so beautifully_ in the small space, John thought he might cry. So he started bobbing his head quickly and Sherlock _cried._  
  
“Oh god, John... fuck... I need... I can’t...!”  
  
John slid his teeth experimentally over that vein _(who knows? Sherlock’s always been a kinky bastard_ ) and then there was a hand on the back of his head, not pushing, but urging him and--  
  
“ _again”_  
  
John repeated the touch and was rewarded with another cry as the hand tightened to grip his hair. John felt bolder now and nibbled as gently as he could while he reached beneath Sherlock’s erection to tug at his balls.  
  
“John.” The voice was oddly calm, “I’m about to come.”  
  
One more nip, a few swipes of the tongue, and Sherlock was shaking with his orgasm. John pulled off just in time to receive Sherlock’s spend on his chest as he stroked him through it. When Sherlock was spent and panting, John licked the last little drops of cum off his dick and preened a bit at the moan of objection to so much stimulation.  
  
John stood and licked his lips (for Sherlock’s benefit) and guided his best mate back under the spray of the shower, where he washed the sweat and drool off of a putty-in-his-hands Sherlock Holmes.  
  
The last thing he did was wash the trail of Sherlock’s cum from his own chest before drying them both off and walking Sherlock over for a nap on the bed.  
  
Sherlock curled up with his head in John’s hair.  
  
“Smells like soap.”  
  
“So do you.”  
  
It was quiet for a while, then  
“John?”  
  
“Hm?”  
  
“That was brilliant.”  
  
John gave him a quick, chaste kiss and winked. Sherlock snuggled closer and just before they drifted off for a nice mid-morning nap, Sherlock whispered, “You’ll have to teach me to return the favor.”  
  
“To start, the internet has a lot to offer...”   
  


  



	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more teenlock smutty smut smut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one goes after chapter 7 of Pennies and Ladders. It's right here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/802716/chapters/1690054  
> Or, as always, you COULD just read it by itself. For smutty purposes. 
> 
> ANYWHO
> 
> I've been sitting on this chapter for DAYS, trying to make it extra-luscious. Who loves you? This girl--I do. I did red pants things....Because today was monday and I wore my red y-fronts to work and I felt SUPER SNEAKY. So there you are. Enjoy :]

Sherlock’s cock gave an enthusiastic twitch at John’s suggestion, but the desire for stimulation of the mind overtook that of the body this time and Sherlock relaxed, turning to John with what he hoped was a seductive grin.   
  
“Sherlock? Why are you looking at me like that? It’s creeping me out.”  
  
“I’m seducing you, John. Is it not working?”  
  
“Er... maybe if you put your tongue back in your mouth-- oh! ok, that’s better.”  
  
“Good. Now, do you recall what I said before you told me about your internet research on blow jobs?”  
  
John made his thinking face ( _sure, it’s seductive when John’s tongue to shows,_ Sherlock thought grumpily.)  


“You admitted that I was brilliant.”  
  
“And THEN I said ‘you’ll have to teach me to return the favor.’ Remember?”  
  
John pretended to remember, and Sherlock pretended to believe him.  
  
“Oh, sure. Do you want me to show you some videos?”  
  
“No, John. I don’t want to watch your porn.” He crawled the short distance to John and placed a palm on his chest, just _hinting_ for the blonde to lie down. “I find I learn better by experience... kinesthetic enrichment, if you will.”  

 

John was now on his back amongst the pillows and staring wide-eyed at Sherlock. This was different. Sherlock was initiating this. Sherlock was confident. John was smitten.   
  
He watched as deft hands unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans and was glad his parents and Harry had dropped him off at home. Because he doubted very much that a 16 year old girl walking in at this moment would slow Sherlock down.  
  
“John, as you said before: I also have no experience with this, so I’ll need you to be vocal.” His eyes were bright and clinical, but his lips were flushed and soft when they brushed against his hip, trailing kisses beneath his naval. John hummed in agreement and long fingers stripped him of his pants, leaving his cock plummy and shivering against his belly in the cool air.  
  
“Already hard? Really, John I’m flattered.” Sherlock purred as he licked his lips and John tried not to duff him on the side of the head.   
  
The first lick was soft but not tentative; a whisper of a promise that made John shiver. Sherlock continued to lick delicately, looking up at John with a question in his eyes. John knew the question already: it was the same one Sherlock asked the first time they touched each other. He also knew the answer.  
  
“Just do whatever you think would feel good. I won’t get mad, even if you’re utter crap at it!”  
  
Sherlock glanced down, nodding with his eyes, and proceeded to suck John into his mouth, eliciting sighs. He rolled the head in his mouth a few times, trying to remember what John had done when their roles were switched. He pulled off and repositioned his mouth so he could just run his teeth--  
  
“Oh, and don’t even think about using your teeth, ‘Lock. That’s only for you.”  
  
Sherlock pouted and pretended he knew that already, instead using his lips to nibble gently at the underside of John’s cock.  
  
“Oh... I wouldn’t have thought of that.. that’s rather nice...”  
  
Feeling encouraged, Sherlock gradually nibbled toward the tip, then stopped to flutter his tongue around the frenulum. A quick look up revealed that John was biting his lip. Sherlock scowled and sat up.  
  
“If you bite your lip, I can’t very well hear fluctuations in your breathing.”  
  
“Fine.”  
  
“Thank you, John.”  
  
Sherlock went back to work, no training wheels attached. He guided John’s cock into his mouth as far as he could, and then farther. His gag reflex was weakened on the left side thanks to a failed experiment a few years back that ended with him choking on a skeleton key, so he was pleasantly surprised that he was able to breath evenly as he guided John to the back of his throat.  
  
John’s mouth dropped open as he watched Sherlock swallow him... ALL of him... on his very first try. Granted, John wasn’t large... but neither was the boy’s mouth. John made a mental note that as soon as he was thinking clearly, he’d ask Sherlock how he’d done it.  
  
Sherlock held him there for a few moments, getting used to the odd sensation and swallowing a few times to adjust--  
  
“NRG...sh’lock...your mouth..... ”  
  
From what he could tell, this was having a most satisfactory effect on John, so he swallowed again, relishing the surprised expression on John’s face as he groaned again. Sherlock was enjoying this far more than he had anticipated.  
  
He painted what he could reach of John’s length with the tip of his tongue and sucked his cheeks in, making a vacuum in his mouth as he swallowed again. This time John twitched a bit and the head of his cock moved a little into the right side of Sherlock’s throat, causing him to sputter and gag. He spat John out as he panted.  
  
“What? How... I’m sorry?”  
  
“Right side is bad, John. Very bad. You’ll have to stay still if I’m to take you in my throat.”  
  
John was confused, but at this point he’d agree to anything to have that hot, wet pressure back, so he nodded frantically until Sherlock was wrapping his lips around his length again, bobbing his head down until John was fully seated in his throat.  
  
Sherlock resumed his ministrations, swallowing and sucking and licking, until John was panting beneath him.  
  
“God, Sherlock...ngh... how can you eve---agh! I need more... I’m so close....”  
  
Sherlock began to bob his head before introducing his left hand to massage John’s balls. It... didn’t take long. _It took 12 seconds,_ Sherlock noted, before tucking the full seven minute encounter into his mind palace. _John Corridor, fourth room on the left, to the shelf next to the giant model of John’s penis.  
  
_ John’s eyes shut tightly as he came down the taller boy’s throat. He gasped a few times as Sherlock sucked him through the aftershocks, then fell back, exhausted, on the bed. Sherlock wiped his mouth and decided that he was glad that the human throat doesn’t have taste buds. Precum he could handle, It was salty and sour and tasted like John. But even just the few drops of bitter semen that landed on his tongue left his nose wrinkling. __  
  
So he did what any man would do: He made John suffer, too. He squashed his mouth against John’s and shoved his tongue inside, rubbing the awful taste out on John’s rough taste buds. The blonde didn’t seem to mind. He just hummed at his own taste and reached up to play with Sherlock’s hair as they kissed.  


Sherlock groaned at the attention and soon John had pulled Sherlock down to lay completely on top of him. They continued to kiss, and John’s hands crept down Sherlock’s back to knead at his arse. John had always liked Sherlock’s butt. It was sort of small and turned up... like his nose. John smiled, but Sherlock’s voice brought him back to the task at hand.  
  
“Harder, if you would.”  
  
Although startled by the request, John complied and began massaging the fleshy  
mounds with his palms, pressing Sherlock more firmly into himself.  
  
“Nrm....”  
  
He could feel Sherlock’s erection through the boy’s trousers and Sherlock began to grind his hips down against John’s, pinning him to the mattress.  
  
“Sherlock-- do you want me to...?”  
  
“Unf... no need. I’m almost there anyway. Just kiss me.”  
  
John did. He bit at Sherlock’s lips and opened his mouth to let that clever tongue delve inside. Sherlock was panting and the kissing was quickly dissolving into open-mouthed gulping. Surprisingly, John found that he didn’t care; he kissed back expertly, swiping his tongue against Sherlock’s lips and thrusting up to meet those relentless hips until Sherlock lost his rhythm, keening and arching his back.  
  
“There! Ah-- Coming!”  
  
Sherlock froze as he came in his pants, inhaling shuddering breaths as John rocked against him, touched him anywhere he could reach until all at once Sherlock relaxed. He flopped limply onto John’s chest and stayed there as warm arms wrapped around him in the best hug of his life. They lay there for a minute, breathing, before Sherlock bolted upright.  
  
“I... Need to clean myself off.”  
  
John blushed when he saw the dark spot already showing on the front of Sherlock’s trousers and pointed stiffly to his bathroom.  
  
“You can use the shower... and I’ll find you some sweats to borrow.”  
  
“Right.”  
  
Sherlock pulled his legs over the side of the bed and made a B-line for the shower.  
  
John sat in bed, listening to the rustle of cloth and streaming of water as Sherlock went about his business. He prepared a change of clothes and soon Sherlock was peeking shyly around the bathroom door, his earlier confidence gone. John smiled and passed him the folded pile of clothes, which Sherlock took gratefully before slipping back into the bathroom.  
  
Sherlock stared down at the fabric in his arms. John had lent him his red and yellow plaid pyjama pants and a beaten up Grateful Dead T-Shirt. Both were bound to be too small, but Sherlock didn’t mind. He raised the pile to his nose to appreciate the clean smell and something caught his eye: Sandwiched in the middle of the pile was a pair of red cotton pants. John’s Monday pants. Sherlock raised an eyebrow. Had John done that on purpose? Sherlock began to deduce: _Today is Sunday. The Watson family generally does laundry every 10 days. Usually on Wednesday, when John’s mother gets off work early. John wears red pants every Monday. Therefore John has at least two pairs of red pants. By the number of towels stacked under the sink, last Wednesday was laundry day. That would mean that John will be wearing a matching pair of red pants tomorrow.  
  
_ Sherlock smiled. It was surprisingly intimate knowing that he and John could be in matching pants tomorrow, especially considering no one but them would know--It would be a regular day at school for everyone else, but he and John would have this secret...or better yet... it would be a surprise even to John! He shivered as he stepped into the red y-fronts: Yes, he would take them off after school tomorrow.  
  
 __  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the smutty bits. If you are concerned about the chronological order of your teen!lock smut, you may wish to read chapter 10 of Pennies and Ladders first. But don't let me tell you what to do.  
> Chapter 10 of Pennies and Ladders:  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/802716/chapters/1926733

  
  
“John! John please! This is seriously disgusting!” Sherlock tried to sound stern as he shoved John’s shoulder a bit, but to no avail. The giggles came back 10-fold and John shoved Sherlock back. 

 

Sherlock got quiet for  a moment before leaping at John, pushing him back to the floor. John licked his lips and rolled them over, pinning Sherlock’s shoulder down. The laughter stopped. And for a long moment, the two stared into each others’ eyes, panting.   
  
Tentatively, Sherlock’s arms came up to wrap around John’s neck and pull him into a kiss. The whole ordeal became rather lascivious rather quickly, and Sherlock suddenly found himself moaning into John’s mouth and tugging at his hair as that soft, sweet tongue slid deftly against his own.  
  
Sherlock pulled his friend’s head back by the hair and looked at him. His pupils were dilated lusciously and his mouth opened in a gasp as Sherlock delivered an experimental tug to the soft, sandy hair at the base of his neck. 

 

The young detective smiled and leaned up to mouth at John’s jaw as he continued to run his hands through that soft hair, pulling occasionally.   
  
Slyly, he dragged his left foot toward himself on the carpet, bending his knee into the perfect position for-- John groaned as his clothed erection met Sherlock’s oh-so-inviting leg. The temporary relief was nothing compared to the need such attentions arose in him, and John was pretty sure that he could grind against Sherlock’s leg until they both chafed, but _no,_ he thought _this could be even better_. 

 

He forced himself to still his hips and met Sherlock’s curious gaze briefly before moving lower and to nuzzle into a small triangle of flesh exposed when Sherlock’s shirt became untucked. John nosed and bit at his hip until Sherlock was thrusting up, hopeful for more.   
  
Carefully, John unbuttoned Sherlock’s trousers, then took the fly between his teeth. Sherlock almost laughed out loud at the lewdness, but could tell by the look in John’s eyes that this wasn’t playfulness. No, _this is possession._ Sherlock’s heart skipped a beat at the realization. Right now, he was John’s. When his fly was open, John gave Sherlock a different look, more tender, and placed a soft kiss just below his naval, waiting. _And John is mine_ , Sherlock read his gaze, then lifted his hips so that John could tug the trousers away.  
  
Now, at long last, John was face to cock with his own red pants. He couldn’t help noting how much _better_ they were when they had a Sherlock Holmes inside. He couldn’t help it when he buried his face in the softness of the fabric, the fleshy cushioning of Sherlock’s cock. He couldn’t help the groan that escaped him when he felt a spot of moisture on his cheek. He turned his head and darted his tongue against the darkened splotch of fabric, relishing the familiar salty taste. He would have gone on for hours if Sherlock would have just _held still!_ But the curly-haired boy was persistent in his wriggling and eventually John had to look up, lest he risk later encounters such as this.  


Sherlock pouted at him.  
“How come you’re still fully dressed?”  
  
John raised an eyebrow, “Because a Sherlock in red knitted y-fronts is irresistible.”  
  
Sherlock tutted and stood, obviously implying that John to do the same. He sighed and stood, admittedly quite happy with the view of Sherlock’s legs now that they were standing.  
  
Sherlock moved quickly, lunging at John and removing his trousers faster than the Watson boy could process. He slung the trou over his shoulder triumphantly and smiled.  
  
“Much better, don’t you think, John?”  
  
John growled playfully and tackled Sherlock onto the bed tickling his sides. His shirt was bunched under his armpits in the most lovely way, giving John a full few of his pert, flushed nipples.  
  
John kissed each one and then lay on top of Sherlock, hugging him tightly and carefully recalculating the position of his hips until their cocks lined up through the twin red pants.  
  
John began to rut against his ( _well, if we aren’t boyfriends now, then when will we be?)_ boyfriend, but again, Sherlock wriggled free. John couldn’t help but feel a bit hurt.... until he saw the delightful flush developing high on Sherlock’s cheeks.  
  
John waited.  
  
Sherlock scooted onto his knees and looked at John, face doing gymnastics as he thought through his next request.  
  
John waited. He was a very patient boy, especially when it came to Sherlock.  
  
“Um--do you remember the other day when I thought you weren’t home, and then you were, and we ended up snogging?”  
  
“Yes, contrary to popular belief I’m not actually an idiot.”  
  
Sherlock smirked, then “And do you remember err... oh, bugger it.” He grabbed John’s hands an placed them firmly on his backside. John raised his eyebrows at him, and Sherlock made a face.  
  
“You want me to--?”  
“--Yes--if you would? I’m curious...”  
  
John didn’t need to be asked twice to fondle Sherlock’s arse. “Flip over.” He said, and the embarrassed genius flopped onto his belly. John ran his hands down his back happily before pausing on the curve of Sherlock’s buttocks. The red fabric was stretched taut here, and was not quite large enough to prevent two tantalizing little mounds of skin from peaking out where arse met thigh on each side. _This is what was bothering Sherlock all day_ , he mused, and ran his fingertips over them gently, tickling. Sherlock twitched beneath him, and he repeated the touch, this time running his hands back up to rest on his sacrum.  


“Sherlock? You haven’t said anything yet.”  


“It’s weird... It feels nice, but not like the other day...”  


John hmm’d before applying more pressure, pulling the cheeks apart and letting them spring back, watching as the leg-holes in the pants slid further up his boyfriend’s ( _yes, boyfriend is good)_ arse _._  
  
He leaned in to breath warmly against one of those little pudges of exposed skin, and Sherlock bucked up at the sensation. John chuckled and placed a single, firm kiss to that skin and smiled as Sherlock’s head whipped around.  
  
“ _John!_ Don’t do that! Do you have any idea the kinds of bacteria--a---”  


John nipped gently at the skin and huffed out another breath. 

 

Sherlock froze. 

 

He nuzzled into the clothed portion of Sherlock’s arse and took a pinch of the fabric-clad  plushness between his teeth. He was just about to repeat the action when a soft whine coming from the general direction of his boyfriend’s face got his attention.  
  
“Sh’lock?”  
  
“That’s... please don’t stop.” He bit his lip and arched his back, a clear invitation for John to continue. John was happy to. He made this clear by tugging at the elastic with his teeth and sliding the fabric up and over the curve of Sherlock’s ass, leaving him shivering in the cold. John’s hand came up to stroke warm circles over the cool flesh and Sherlock couldn’t help arching into the warmth.  
  
“Yes... like that. It’s good, John...” The sandy haired boy preened at the praise and dropped a few quick kisses on to Sherlock’s buttock before feeling brave and licking a stripe up toward his spine. The squeak it earned him was more than a bit motivating and soon John was licking and mouthing the expanse of light flesh before him as Sherlock shook and hummed beneath him.  
  
John had an Idea.  
  
He slid up Sherlock’s pliant body until he reached his shoulders, where he sucked little red marks into the skin while his hands continued exploring that great arse. Cautiously, he brought one hand up and popped his middle finger into his mouth, wetting it. He brought it back out and let it hover just above its goal.  
  
“Sherlock?”  
  
“ _hn?”  
  
_ “Can I touch you... _inside?_ ”  
  
Sherlock’s eyes snapped open. _That_ was something he hadn’t thought about. John’s fingers inside him, stretching, searching... It wasn’t altogether unappealing. _Why isn’t this unappealing?_ He couldn’t make sense of it, so he sighed and said, “I trust you, John.”  
  
It was so sweet, John couldn’t resist turning Sherlock’s head for a lingering kiss. They rolled over onto their sides and kissed while he positioned his finger just over Sherlock’s entrance. He shivered when John touched him there at first, and accidentally bit John’s lip as they kissed. John chuckled and moved the finger in a little circle to help him get used to it while he delivered a few soft, chaste kisses to Sherlock’s impossible upper lip.  
  
Sherlock gave the tiniest nod and John licked his lips and pushed.  
  
The finger slid in pretty easily, and Sherlock opened his eyes to peer blankly at John. 

  
“What’s it feel like?”  
  
Sherlock made a peculiar face, “I don’t know.”  
  
“Pfft! What do you mean you don’t know?”  
  
“I-- It’s... tight? Er... but pleasant? Can you move it a little?”  
  
John wiggled just the tip of his finger,  
  
“Oh! That’s weird... I can feel it,” Sherlock blurted out.  
  
John pulled the finger out and pushed back in, more quickly than the last time. Sherlock groaned.  
  
“Again? Taking it out is uncomfortable, but when you put it back in it’s interesting.”  
  
John pulled his finger out slowly, then thrust it back inside in one fluid motion. Sherlock arched his back.  
  
“Aim for my belly button next time, there’s... something different.”  
  
John did as he was told and Sherlock yelped.  
  
“Christ, Sherlock! You okay?? Did I hurt you?”  
  
“No... It was sort of ticklish. In a good way. I think it’s my prostate. Can you put a second finger inside?”  
  
John removed his finger and slicked a second one, then pushed them inside together. Sherlock bit his lip.  
  
“Fuck.”  
  
“Excuse me? Did you just swear, Sherlock?” John was grinning,  
  
“Yes.” He was biting his lower lip, “Just... hold still.” Sherlock rocked his hips into John’s fingers and John tried very hard to hold still as he felt Sherlock’s insides slipping against his fingertips, twitching and hot. He was becoming uncomfortably hard. So was Sherlock, he noticed with a bizarre swell of pride.  
  
Neither would be able to stand much more.  
  
He reached between them and tugged at Sherlock’s cock, startling the other boy, and then pulled his fingers almost all the way out of him. Sherlock whined, and John left him suspended there for a moment, before simultaneously thrusting his fingers into Sherlock’s slick heat and stroking his cock in counterpoint.  
  
Sherlock was coming undone. The only sounds leaving his mouth were choked off sobs of John’s name. John could feel from the _inside_ how close Sherlock was. His abdominal muscles were fluttering rapidly against the intruding finger and Sherlock was rocking his hips into the motions. John took it all in, his beautiful, debauched Sherlock, and bit down on his neck as he started twisting and circling his fingers inside him. He could feel a little lump in the general direction of Sherlock’s belly button, and bore down on it, rubbing and stroking it quickly.  
  
Sherlock’s back arched wildly and he keened high, eyes open, as John massaged that little node through his climax, halting the attentions on his penis altogether to savor the way Sherlock’s hole clenched down on John’s fingers as he came across his belly.  
  
Seeing Sherlock cum, John reached for his own stiffness and wet his hand in Sherlock’s spill to stoke himself. It took next to nothing before they were both laying on the bed, panting in each other’s arms. The red pants lay forgotten at the end of the bed, and John finally slipped his finger from Sherlock’s arse.  
  
Exhausted, John barely managed to wash his hands before they both fell asleep.  
  



End file.
